CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

Don't own.

URGENT NOTE! I WILL BE GOING ON A TRIP FOR ONE WEEK! LITERALLY. BUT; I WILL TRY TO TAKE MY LAPTOP WITH ME SO I CAN TYPE THE STORIES! FORGIVE ME IF THE STORY ISN'T UPDATED IN ONE WEEK!

THAT IS WHY I'M UPDATING SO MUCH LATELY. ENJOY.

For the next week, all anybody except the sore losers-Slytherins- wanted to do was relax and have fun. I had the entire Gryffindor Team sign the poster I made, then Ron, Hermione, and I signed it and gave it to Harry.

The fun ended the day after Sunday. Ugh, I hate Mondays.

Exams were coming closer, and everyone was poring over their books like crazy. Dad even remarked that I was considerably quieter, and I spotted the Twins studying quietly for their OWLs. QUIETLY. I didn't think that was possible. Hermione, having the impossible classes she impossibly seemed to be taking, became irritable and short-tempered, which made us all nervous around her.

I decided to keep my Gryffindor-sporting Headband on, but I didn't really think I was allowed to wear Gryffindor colors in class, so I had to change my red robes back to Slytherin green. Pity.

Hedwig, Harry's beautiful white owl, flew in from the window of the Gryffindor common room. She dropped a letter from Hagrid on the table, and instantly all four of us-Ron, Hermione, Harry, and I-dropped out textbooks and study sheets, leaning forward eagerly as Harry took the letter and tore it open.

"It says the appeal's set for the sixth…" Harry's eyes scanned the page. "And they're bringing the…executioner." He finished weakly.

Hermione gasped, and Ron spilled ink over the table. "But-that's like-like-they've already decided!" Hermione said angrily, and I dabbed at the ink silently with the corner of my parchment, worried.

"Exactly." Harry spread the paper out miserably.

Ron slammed a fist against the table. "They can't! I spent ages searching up that stuff!" he howled.

"Never mind that," I cut in impatiently. "Buckbeak's life is on the line, and it's likely that the line's going to be cut. There's still the appeal!" I stopped dabbing the ink when I noticed that there was a growing black mark on my parchment.

HHHHPPPOOO EXAM WEEK

The first exam was transfiguration, which was actually pretty fun. We had to turn a plant into a tortoise, and I was pretty sure I had passed that one, except the shell pattern came out a bit differently than I had expected. Hermione was fussing over how her tortoise looked like a turtle, but she calmed down a bit when I told her I really didn't know the difference, then stalked off muttering that I was hopeless. Harry came out a bit flustered, and Ron came out howling that his tortoise's hind leg had a bud of a leaf on it.

Second exam was after lunch: Charms, and we did Cheering Charms for Flitwick.

"Does he take off points if I fell off my chair laughing?" I asked Harry, who grinned and shook his head. "I don't know, I knocked the table over," he admitted, and we both burst into hysterical laughter, due to the effects of the charm. Actually, I was worried I had done an overdose, I had jolted my wrist too much as a static electricity ran through me at the Charm, which I didn't recall feeling when we first did the charm.

After dinner, I went to my room, flipping through different pictures of Moons for Astronomy. Potions would be an easy pass since I had done various worksheets on all the potions in my book. For Divination, I'd just make something up again.

The next day, mostly everyone passed Magical Creatures with flying colors, except for some kid who accidentally prodded the flobberworm in half. Hagrid was so miserable he overlooked another student's half-dead, twitching worm as "alive and healthy".

In Potions we had to make a Confusing Concoction, which I was pretty sure about since it turned the right color and everything. Harry was suffering under my dad's gaze as he tried to thicken his potion to no avail. I forced an innocent expression and "accidentally" swept the needed ingredient a bit closer to Harry, who curled his fingers and took it.

"You'll be fine," I assured him a few hours after the test. I was in an exceptionally good mood, because I had wheedled my Potions score out of my dad, which was a high hundred.

Astronomy was at midnight, and I kept stifling yawns as I blinked and tried to gaze up at the sky. With estimation, I probably passed with a medium score, even though I accidentally said "unicorn" at first instead of "Pegasus".

I'm not even kidding here: I fell asleep in History of Magic, but luckily or unluckily Hermione jabbed me so hard I jolted awake painfully, and managed to scribble down every single stupid piece of information about witch-hunting.

Defense Against the Dark Arts.

I passed the first part, but the last part, with the encounter of the Boggart in a closed chest, it nearly scared me half to death.

Wand raised, I muttered a practiced "Riddikulus!" under my breath, and approached the orb of light. Instantly it changed into…me?

I blinked at the figure. It was an exact replica of me, with some changes. The eyes were cold as ice, and there was a cruel smile playing across her-my?-lips. My hair was black, with red highlights.

Then I realized…they weren't highlights. It was blood.

Fake me smiled and reached back in unfamiliar dark black robes. She pulled up her sleeves to reveal two inky black words: Voldemort's Faithful. I gulped.

"What have you done, Celia?" She asked me, grinning mercilessly. My eyes strayed to her hand, which was holding a bloody knife, dripping, dripping, dripping…on the floor lay faceless bodies of all sizes, from babies to grown adults.

Fake me turned in unison with me when we heard a yell. Harry came up, panting, relief written on his face. "Celia! I thought-" he froze, and Fake me gutted him with the knife. I watched in horror as he crumpled to the ground, screaming, alive. There was a flurry of silver as Fake me brought the knife down again, stabbing clean into his wrist, right where the veins were.

"Stop it!" I dropped my wand, pressing my hands against my ears, trying to ignore the screams. It was just a Boggart, I reminded myself, and shakily, I grabbed my wand again.

"RIDDIKULUS!" There was a bang, and I turned before I could see anything. Tears and confusion pricked my mind, and I realized I was shaking; half with anger, half with terror, and a bunch of confusion.

Why would that be my greatest fear? I thought, terror ripping at my heart. If I had been tempted to do that, maybe it would have been my greatest fear. But I had no intention of killing anyone, or switch to Voldemort's side. So why would I be afraid of that?

It was the idea of killing anyone, I realized. If Voldemort had been at my mercy, I would have let him go. Let him go, as in, hand him over to the Ministry. Or Dumbledore. Even with a knife in hand, I couldn't kill. The sight of blood made me nauseous.

Great. So if I ever met Voldemort, I might as well say, "Hello, amigo! Take me away to my death! Go on!" and hold out my wrists.

Divination. I was very positive I was going to fail. Very.

The room had a ghastly, ghostly air that made me shudder. My nose was hurting from the perfume wafting under my nose, and I could feel mist swirling. Really overdone, since I could feel the steam drifting, and my hair straining to pop out of its hairband, frizzing violently at the humidity.

When I saw Trelawney lift her teacup to drink her green tea, I almost grabbed the cup, raised it, and said, "Well, here's to hours of brushing frizzing hair, and rubbing my perfumed nose, eh?"

"Sit down, dearie," she said in a hollow, scary voice. I sat, eyeing the ball.

"Please don't call me that," I muttered uncomfortably. She waved me off. "Gaze into the Ball, dearie, and tell me what you see!"

So, ducking my head, I stared, frizzy-haired and all, into the Ball. And I saw my fate.

Just kidding. I saw fog.

"Um…I see…" I focused and tried to think of something, anything. "Hagrid."

Instantly, I could see it was a bad choice. Hagrid meant Buckbeak. "No-I mean, I see…er…Professor Lupin?" I could have slapped myself.

Trelawney's eyebrows knitted together. "Professor Lupin? Do you, perhaps, see anything…tragic?"

Okay, I'll admit it. I panicked. Lupin was an awesome teacher, and I didn't want anything, ahem, tragic to happen. "No! He's-he's okay, he's smiling and laughing with…Headmaster Dumbledore. They're sitting in the Great Hall, eating…um…food."

Trelawney gazed into my eyes. "No need to be afraid, my dear. If Remus has a rather sad fate, it will-"

"He's fine. Everyone's fine. Great. I think I'm done." I scraped my chair back. Trelawney sighed and marked something on my paper. "Alright…I'm sure you tried…it's alright…disappointing…"

As soon as I was dismissed, I ran off like I was being chased by Voldemort himself.

Lesson of today, folks: Cecelia Charleston does not know what Divination is, and would prefer not to. Cecelia Snape thinks it's freaky and hates it. Both of them suck at it, and they would like to keep it that way.

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